Only If the Lights Are On

In my July 2 blog post, “A Talk With My Brother,” I asked him—my brother—to be my Guardian Angel. I believe in angels. And I truly believe that when I asked for his help to lift the darkness I’d been carrying, he answered. Not only did he help… he guided me to the very source of this darkness.

Now, for the first time, I’m beginning to process memories I’ve spent a lifetime trying to reach—but never could. I had read about repressed memory here and there, but I never thought it applied to me. When I tried to look back on my childhood, all I ever found was black. Very few images or emotions—just a lot of black walls behind my eyelids.

When I sat quietly with myself, I’d sense something. A cobweb in my brain. An ache in my heart but I couldn’t explain it. Here is my feeble attempt to try to explain...

Did you know that when you look at white—like the background of this screen—you’re seeing all the colors at once? White is what happens when every color shows up to the party. Black, on the other hand, is the absence of color. A complete void.

Lately, it feels like light has finally begun shining into the darker corners of my past. And suddenly—click—so many things about who I am, and why, are starting to make sense.

Here’s the thing: our experiences shape us. They don’t have to define us, but they do sculpt us. Thankfully, we’re wonderfully moldable—at any age.

Take Grandma Moses. She didn’t start painting until her 70s, and by her 80s and 90s, she was a world-renowned folk artist.

She once said, “Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be.”

That quote speaks to me now more than ever. Sometimes, the most powerful thing we can do is step outside ourselves and see our lives from another angle—not from inside our heads or our pain, but through the eyes of others around us. What might they see? How might they be affected? That kind of perspective shifts everything.

As Wayne Dyer said,

“When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”

Now that I’ve looked back—really looked—I no longer have to carry it all with me. I can lay it down at the cross. The weight has lifted. The light has entered. And I’m beginning to live with a little more understanding, a little more compassion… especially for myself. The light is on now. And I’m no longer afraid of the dark from the past.

I’m sure there are still some cobwebs in there that i will have to deal with, but if the lights on, I’m not afraid.

A Talk With My Brother

"If I were able to have a talk with you today Dave, this is what I would say..."

My journal got an earful today during this visit with you as I poured out everything—an emotional dump like I’ve never shared with anyone before. But I figured, you probably already know, so why not just say it all? Have a real, raw, no-holds-barred conversation with you. I knew you’d understand. We were raised in the same home, share the same blood—and most importantly, I’ve asked you to be my Guardian Angel for something that’s not just big... it’s monumental.

It’s something from my past. A part of me that turns itself inside out and slips into darkness from time to time and I want to be done with it.

I’m trying—really trying—to squeeze that darkness out and replace it with light.

I’m not claiming I’ll stop being bipolar. What I’m talking about goes deeper than a diagnosis. It’s a feeling I’ve carried as long as I can remember—one of being dark, dirty, and scared. But little by little, I’m beginning to let it go. As I understand it more, its grip on me weakens. Healing isn’t quick, but it’s happening.

And that’s what I’m asking from you today, Dave—help me walk through it. Help me through the process.

The reminiscing today has been glorious. I wrote down a bunch of memories—maybe someday your kids will read them. Like the time we went water skiing in the canal, using the motorcycle as a boat. Or when Dad beat the hell out of you for streaking. Yep, those were the streaking days—and even though you were harmless, nobody saw it that way! You “streaked” in a jock strap, in our own yard, over the calf pens with one of the Milkers. None of that mattered to Dad. I tattled on you the next day, and I’ve regretted it ever since. You paid dearly for that shenanigan, and I’m sorry I sold you out.

Remember hide-and-seek on the motorcycles, using every nook and cranny the farm had to offer? Or playing Monopoly in the camper on rainy days—even if the camper was in the driveway? I don’t have a childhood without you, my dear brother.

Eventually, all of us kids got married and started having kids of our own. We’d gather at Mom and Dad’s every Sunday for roast and brownies. All of our kids, now the troublemakers, would make there way to the hay barn to make forts and play with matches. (That hay barn did eventually burn to the ground, lit by one of the kids, luckily not yours or mine.)

As families, with Mom & Dad always there, we went to parades, water parks, and fireworks. We had picnics, went sledding, golfing, and you even talked some of us into going fishing.

But enough reminiscing.

Dave, your death was a turning point in our family’s life. There was life before you died, and life after. I don’t know what life would’ve been like had you lived, but I know one thing for sure: I sure would’ve liked to find out. But I won’t complain our family has been blessed beyond measure.

Thanks for your help along the way, I've felt you hangin' around a time or two. You've sure been gone a long time.

Ignorance hurts

I'm angry too!! Those who don't get this are either in denial or thus far in life have not been touched by mental illness. I have. It hurts. Ignorance hurts.

Read this!

If we would have understood maybe my brother Dave would have enjoyed fishing with his son, watched his babies earn trophies, and laid his grandchildren on his belly.

Dave always patient for the biggest fish. Richard his son follows in his footsteps.

Jr. Prom and touting his basketball trophies.

Amanda lying on her Dad. Amanda now has 2 boys.

This Road Less Traveled

We cannot or should not ever quantify or compare grief. This journey our family is on at this time is a road less traveled. Losing a loved one is painful. Watching a loved one suffer is agonizing. My beautiful father whom i have adored and learned many great life lessons from is surgically having a line inserted into his chest today to begin chemo treatments for his esophageal cancer next week. He was diagnosed last November and has been treating it holistically and doing so well. Unfortunately as of late he has been unable to get much food down including liquids which the scope he had earlier this week revealed the tumor has progressed.

Given two options, a feeding tube to the stomach for nutrition or chemo to possibly shrink the tumor, was the choices given. Dad's a pragmatic man said, "Well, let's go for the chemo." I'm sure he is hoping to be able to sink his teeth into a big cheeseburger soon. He has followed a strict diet, not a speck of white flour or sugar since his cancer diagnosis, and he has enjoyed blended vegetable shakes by the dozens. Rondy my mom#2 has taken the best of care and in many respects he is in better health today than he was four months ago. Yet cancer is one of those invasions that destroy good cells. These malignant cells are blocking off the passage way for food and sometimes even liquids for my dad.

None of us invite death. Losing my brother Dave so instantly was tragic and our family has never been the same. Yet death is the one sure thing we all can count on, so coping skills and moving on and up is part of our life's journey. Reading the book "Life Lessons" was a great help to me.




I recommend it whether you have lost a loved one or not.

I have no doubt that each of you will one day be on a road you never expected to be on...you are and can be stronger than you think. Reach out. Believe in the Power of Love and that God does have each of us in His care...Always...

Christmas Traditions and Change

Mom and Me at Cemetary

Some traditions live on…and some change. After Dave died we would gather around his grave on Christmas Eve and sing Christmas songs, shed tears, share stories, laugh through our tears and pray. That tradition changed a few years ago when the family got bigger and older.  Each of us still remember Dave through the holidays in our own way. I dropped off my wreath this year and was delighted to see he had been visited by many already. He is not one who is easily forgotten. He comes by a stature of command naturally through my dad’s lineage, (6 ft. 4, 230 lb.) so playing Santa was a natural and rather humorous affair for the adults who got to witness the event.

Back in the “olden days” when I was a kid there was no Santa costume and Grandma Allen bought red and white tissue paper for the children and we would create Santa on my dad which was fun, albeit certainly no mystique in the legend of Santa. Then one year investment in the whole Santa costume get up was made and the delight of Christmas parties was never the same! Year after year Dad plowed his body into that hot costume and HO-Ho'd his way with bells and a bound into all the family parties and a few others. I’m not sure who had more fun, the kids or Santa?!

Dave as Santa holding Richard

Dave watched Dad pour on the Santa charm and took over in his twenties. I’m not sure if the kids were smarter in the 80’s or if we were just so naive, but those kids were on to Santa Dave like nobodies business. Nevertheless it didn’t spoil any of the fun. Dave could lead our musically deficient family through a string of Christmas carols, and you better believe Dave never missed a word. Mom taught us all the classics.

From left to right:my Dad, Sherry (wanting to be Santa!), Santa Richard

In all honesty I don’t remember if Dad picked up during the interim when Dave was gone and Richard was too young to carry on the Santa tradition. Some years you are a little numb during the holidays. But we now have the tallest, skinniest, off the cuff Santa ever! Santa Richard, Dave’s son is carrying on the tradition with varoom! The children are a tad bit intimidated by his towering height but endeared to his loving disposition and enamored by his questions. As for the adults…tradition does live on…inside that Santa costume is a little bit of my big Dad and my big Brother. You can hear it in his voice, you can see it in the gestures and you definitely feel it in the love.

Headaches, Homework, and Cancer, Part II

I don’t care how many holidays go by. I miss him. We all miss him. This is the 16th and Dave’s name always comes up around the Thanksgiving table and most definitely if we play games. He won monopoly even if he HAD to cheat, Dave won. DAD wants to win the battle of “incurable stage 4” cancer. He CAN win the battle. None of us win the final war, which is OK, I have no doubt Dave is doing just fine, and it will be a good reunion when we all join him.

What gives me headache number 15 since Friday is all the not knowing.

“How sick will he be on chemo? Why does this happen? How does this happen?










Why has this stabbing pain now moved from behind my eyes to my chest?


Does he want Dozer to come over? He comforts me.


Why do I have to be strong?






Maybe Zion would be the better Dog? I would give her up. She lies with me for hours when I am hurting. If Zion goes to Dad's I need to go, I don't sleep well without Zion. No matter, I'm not sleeping much.

No Roxee is the only dog for the job, she understands pain and suffering, she IS the LOVE dog, Rondy would LOVE ROXEE!








AND how does chemo really REALLY work?”

Fear. And then we face it, what IS the alternative? I have stayed in bed for long, ridiculously long periods of time. Depression? Excuse me for saying so but I would rather die…the long drawn out chemical type of depression where there is no joy, no purpose, and all there is in your world is darkness for no reason? cOp oUt, ViCtIm, ya I know. If you don’t get it, you never will, don’t even try…, and suicide is not a choice, knowledge, management and acceptance, life keeps on...but NO I have purpose!... my family has purpose. MY DAD HAS PURPOSE!!!

We face our fears, we fight when necessary, we surrender when a broken heart and contrite spirit is the order of the day, and we fight each battle as it comes, even when we do not understand or know our enemies.

Without challenges we do not grOW. Without heartaches we learn no CoMpAsSiOn. All these things are part of our journey…and we do NOT avoid them, or distract ourselves from them, or run away from them, because sooner or later, the challenges and heartaches knock at everyone's door, or just crash it down and it just comes in anyway. My homework is working the steps now, and the homework from the UofU won't be going away either (anthropology sucks). Life just keeps on...

Today I am a little angry, a little sad and I know that this is part of a grieving process that i have to go through. It is part of acceptance. I’m not sure if I will be totally happy tomorrow or the next day or the day after that, but happiness does come, if I choose to allow it. Dad says he is happy, this is important and what matters most! He is happy when his family visits. He is happy when he feels loved. Love can and does heal ALL. He is loved, Oh, He IS LOVED!!!

Lyrics that I Love...

This little rascal is Lyric David Nelson. He is my nephew, and he is a pistol, just like his Grandpa was! He never knew his Grandpa, he died long before he was born. His mother Amanda is just like Lyric, another pistol, she fires off whatever is on her mind, when ever, where ever. They were inspired to name this feisty little guy Lyric because his father is in the music business and loves music like the rest of our family.

I love music...music I find is a great way to relate, with others, and with myself. I listen to music all the time, some songs over and over because I like them so much. I am also always in search of new tunes. Tunes that will uplift me or help me to express myself, with whatever type of mood I happen to be in.

I listen very closely to lyrics, if I can't make them out, I google them. I want to know the words of the songs I am listening to, for a couple of reasons, 1) so I really understand the song, and 2) so I can sing, and sing LOUD, when necessary til my little heart is content!:D

I think I feel a deeper connection to life because of music. It can move me to tears, make my heart feel like it is pounding out of my chest, make me feel more romantic, and even make me feel like running, the problem is...I haven't done that in years! I listen to the beat, the tempo, the instruments and I have playlists on my computer, iPhone and iPod all categorized under headings such as: Chicks TCS (that can sing), Easy Old School, Butt Rock, OHW (one hit wonder) Fav's, Sleep thru Snoring, you get the idea...

Music is like poetry, the words, sure, but the instruments all working together to create a sound that either it works, or it doesn't. And then in what setting does it work? How do you feel? What mood are you in? What are you doing?

So one of my favorite artists was Michael Jackson, the guy had talent beyond anything of this world. I wonder...has my brother been to a concert yet? Has he met Michael Jackson, the King of Pop? Many songs remind me of my brother, rather albums, entire albums.

Some pic's of Dave with Michael Jackson Lyrics...


I Said You Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'
You Got To Be Startin' Somethin'


Born To Amuse, To Inspire, To Delight
Here One Day
Gone One Night


We pray for our fathers, pray for our mothers
Wishing our families well



Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand


Just Beat It,
No One Wants To Be Defeated


Though you're far away, I am here to stay
But you are not alone, for I am here with you
Though we're far apart, you're always in my heart
But you are not alone...

Death-A Life Changing Landscape

Today my brother would have turned 50.






He has been gone now for 16 years. He died in a tragic car accident of which we still seem to have many questions that linger in our minds. We miss him, yet laughter has replaced many of the tears, for HE was bigger than life.
His personality and our memories with him are talked about with fun and regularity as we continually try to fill the hole that is always present.

The landscape of our lives changed forever, it looked and felt barren for a long time. It is now filling in with grass, trees, wildflowers (the grandchildren), and ever still some weeds, for this is life.

Dave was special. He was loud yet tender. He was competitive, yet appreciated it when he knew someone got the best of him. He could care less what you thought about him, but he cared very much about everyONE. He worked hard, so he could play harder. He loved his family, and he idolized his children. He was 6’4” and averaged 230 pounds and loved wearing matching Mickey Mouse t-shirts with his wife and kids! (so funny)

None of us got the chance to say goodbye. Dave was ripped out of our lives one day. Our family was already in crisis. This compounded it. Dave was my only brother. I have one older sister. Speaking for my sister and me, losing Dave was like losing a piece of ourselves, a reflection of ourselves. Relationships with siblings’ help one another know who they are and how they fit into the fabric of life. To lose my brother was losing someone with whom I could share the experiences of growing old with. I am missing that.

For those going through the death of a close loved one for the first time it is a real wild fire. How long it burns no one knows. Grief is such an individual process. To quantify or compare grief is not only insensitive it is ridiculous.

What I have learned is that we don’t ‘get over’ the deepest pains of life, nor should we. We go through them and they refine, deepen and humble us as spiritual beings. We recognize our own immortality and hopefully become more loving and charitable towards ourselves and others. We learn to have hope and enjoy the small, simple moments…the ones that happen in between the big vast landscape of life.

Dedicated to my brother Dave for all the simple moments that he taught me how to laugh and live life to the fullest…I have been a slow learner.

Sunflowers & Sunshowers

Today is my sisters birthday. My mom's birthday is 4 days from now. There is 21 years between the three of us. I am the youngest in the family. My brother who was between my sister and me was killed 14 years ago, he was our only other sibling.

I am crazy about my family. They mean everything to me. We LOVE spending time together. Life seems to restrict that more these days since our children are grown and going in so many different directions. My sister and I practically raised our children together, she was single most of the time.

Every family has their issues. Ours is no different. But I can honestly say that since Dave died my sister and I have cherished each other and rarely said a cross word to one another. My mom and I have worked side by side in our business now for 20 years, she has been steady and consistent throughout. She is forever protecting us girls and serving us tirelessly. Sometimes so much so that she has sacrificed herself and other relationships.

One thing our family does not do is take for granted how far we have come. We talk things over. We talk things through one on one and in groups. We have come to know that when we do this we all come away with a better understanding and appreciation for one another and ourselves. At times this has been uncomfortable, but we learn to push through the discomfort and we always feel better afterwards. Unconditional love, acceptance, understanding and appreciating one anothers differences is what got us through tough times. We had to learn this over time. It did not come all at once necessarily or even naturally...I am sorry to say, or maybe not, those things worth working for always mean the most.

Taken from Like A Sunshower by Journey:
We find the sun through the rain
Caught in a sunshower
We'll be all right, no one's to blame
After the storm, we'll shine
So rare you and me disagree
Love's like a sunshower

Teal We SISTERs Loose our ever living MINDS

This pic is of my special niece McKenna. She is looking for crickets at her Grandma's house (my sister). I do not know what is going on, truly I don't, but she now has a cricket! I received this email from my sister just a few days ago...

Good Morning Sis and BEST FRIEND!

Just checking if you brought your cricket over lasterday (McKenna's word)? Just as I was falling asleep (on my med's) I heard a cricket in my bedroom?! I swear I'm not making this shit up! I thought, as I was going in to my state of delirium...I have been around Lori a lot and maybe I am having sympathy for her trauma with the cricket.....well about 4 hrs later when I awoke to use the bathroom, I realized I was really being invaded by a cricket?! This made me laugh (great in the middle of the night). Took another pill covered my head and eventually dozed off again! I can't find the damn thing this morning....been up since 6?! Any suggestions for tonight?

Here is my response back...

IF you do have a cricket in your upstairs bedroom…there is a message! I not quite sure what but just maybe it’s DAVE bugging the hell out of us like he always has...

This little saga continues the next night...

McKenna came to help Grandma get thru her first night (she had some outpatient surgery), and the damn cricket was back again?! So she got out the magnifying glass. Never heard from the cricket except one time in the night! If you need to obtain her for PEST control....she is relatively cheap (just a little demanding)!

Just so you know, our house has been cricket free for two weeks, my sister got a small taste of a cricketful night.

Was my brother trying to send a message from heaven? Is he laughing and saying, "Whoa, these two blondes don't get a message even if it's clicking in their ears all night long!"

We 3 sibling were a crazy bunch. It has been confirmed. Unteal the SISTERs join you my sweet brother in the teal blue heavens, please no more crickets.